


Tree of life

by Arienhod



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV)
Genre: I don't know how this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 09:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18091853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arienhod/pseuds/Arienhod
Summary: The Goddess gifted them a way to be together, in a way no being could pull them apart. When they accepted it they did not know it would be the first step towards freedom for all.





	Tree of life

Matthew moved with inhuman speed, away from the bed and away from Diana, making her gasp in shock. He had never moved like that around her, always respected of her regular mortal reflexes and speed. But when she realized there was someone else present in the room, someone Matthew had just showed against the wall and immobilized, she pulled the bottom part of the cover over herself, hiding her half-naked body from the gaze of the intruder.

At first she expected it to be Domenico again, this time trespassing not only on the grounds of Sept Tours, but also the chateau itself. Yes, Matthew made it pointedly clear it would be best for him to leave and never return, but it was possible the vampire member of the Congregation used his position to force his way in without repercussion. So far Diana hasn't met a member that didn't have the same mindset, didn't believed himself to be untouchable due to the position of power over the creatures he was holding.

But Ysabeau's appearance at the entrance to the bedroom, her angry shout, revealed someone else had interrupted them.

A vampire she referred to as Baldwin, and he was most certainly one considering he managed to push Matthew away the moment his pressure at the other man's windpipe loosened, pulled his suit jacket down, correcting the creases caused by the attack on him, and sneered at the mistress of the house, "This is how you respect our family lands. By allowing a witch free access to our home, and more importantly to Matthew's bed."

"What I do, who I bring to my bed, is none of your concern." Matthew snapped back instantly, in his own defense, intentionally choosing not to say anything to absolve his mother of the claim thrown her way. She never liked it when someone tried to fight her war, not when she was more than capable destroying her enemies herself.

But instead of pointlessly arguing with Baldwin she calmly asked, "Why are you here?"

Diana felt like her blood was freezing when the vampire's gaze landed on her, but she refused to drop her own gaze and show he was unnerving her. If he wanted her to submit, or whatever vampires did to appear meek and obedient, he's going to have to wait for a while.

Matthew growled deep in his throat, displeased with the attention Baldwin was showing her, and wanting him to back off. It had some effect, but not as much as he wanted. Yes, it got the other vampire to turn towards him, but that didn't mean he backed off completely. Just informed them he was waiting for them both downstairs and stormed out of the room.

"It was only a matter of time. You must have known that." Ysabeau said, making Matthew sigh and nod.

Diana watched silently as he moved around the room, picked up his discarded shirt from the chair and put it back on. Silently she followed suit. What started as a wonderful evening just turned sour. And she had a feeling things would just get worse.

Baldwin was waiting for them in the parlor, pacing the length of the room, acting like the lord of the manor, and at the same time looking like a little boy trying to fill his fathers shoes that were far too big for him. Matthew knew he had placed his half-brother in a difficult position, and then failed to warn him about what might come.

"The decision has been made." he started to speak without prompt the moment the couple entered the large room, "I will be bringing the witch Diana Bishop to Venice, so that she can explain how she got the Book of Life and hand it over."

"I already said I don't have it!" Diana snapped, making Matthew grab her hand to prevent her from marching to Baldwin and get in his face, he recognized the signs in her body language, in hope she might relay her words and having someone finally believe her. She turned to glare at him, but saw the worried look in his eyes. It made her push down on her temper tantrum, realizing that it might be better to let him deal with another vampire, for several obvious reasons.

"Than you must retrieve it from the library and hand over." Baldwin said in a-matter-of-fact voice, unaware, or not caring, of the silent exchange between them.

"The head doesn't know what the left hand is doing." Matthew muttered darkly, baking Baldwin switch his attention to him, "I presume Peter Knox failed to mention Diana already tried to call the book again and failed. Possibly because he had her cornered in the library, surrounded by half-a-dozen witches from the Oxford's coven, in an attempt to intimidate her to try yet again. Or maybe because he used magic in the librarian, the human, who wanted to call the security to have him and his marionettes escorted out."

"She still has to be questioned." Baldwin wasn't backing down.

But neither was Matthew, "There won't be no questioning! Get her in Venice and Knox will demand for witches to deal with Diana herself, claim it's their business. And like a good boy you will roll over and and hand her right over. But Diana won't be just asked questions. That won't be enough for Knox. He will kill her if he saw it as the only way to figure out how she managed to call the manuscript. But that doesn't concern you, does it?" Matthew knew that trying to dissuade Baldwin was like talking to a stone wall, "You just want to ensure your position on the Congregation is safe."

"I want to ensure this family is safe. A task you are making difficult for me by always bringing everyone in danger with your recklessness. And now rule breaking. The Covenant exists for a reason."

"Diana is family!" Matthew finally snapped, "She is my mate!"

But Baldwin just sneered at the claim, "Not beyond doubt, she isn't. And it's a good thing, because then we would all be punished."

Diana didn't understand what was going on, so she turned towards Matthew for clarification. The words he said earlier, she knows he meant them. She was his, just as he was hers, so what else was needed. But he avoided her gaze, instead focused only on his half-brother.

"Baldwin-"

"I am the head of this family, Matthew. It's my responsibility to ensure we aren't left vulnerable in front of others who are just looking for the opportunity to destroy us." the older vampire wasn't backing down, "Now say goodnight to the witch, because she isn't sleeping in your bed tonight, I am not giving you the opportunity to screw up everything and completely mate with her just to spite me."

"That's not your decision to make!" Diana protested at the same time as Matthew exclaimed, "You give yourself far too much importance. I wouldn't do something so insignificant out of spite, but because Diana is my whole world."

"You barely know her." it was a jab at the fact they only met three weeks ago, make it seem like they were rushing into things without thinking, despite the fact Baldwin knew it took only a moment for a vampire to recognize another as mate.

Philippe always said it was like that for him when he saw Ysabeau.

He wished his sire was still alive. He would know how to deal with this mess, how to keep Matthew in line.

His sire groomed him to take over the family someday, since no vampire was truly immortal and death came for them all eventually. He taught him many things, but how to manage his strong-willed sibling wasn't one of them. They rarely saw things from the same perspective, and Philippe's direct order was sometimes the only thing that got them to work together. During one of those appointed missions things went out of hand, because he wanted to protect de Clermont's and their interests while Matthew was acting like a fool. It resulted in the death of another woman his half-brother claimed to love.

It almost caused a tear in the family.

He wondered what would happen if Diana Bishop really was harmed by her kind. Would a death of a witch bring destruction to the family that survived wars, that watches kingdoms raise and fall, kings come and go, and the world change until the creatures were divided like never before. Doubt crept into his mind, but his sense of obligation won.

"Where else can Diana sleep?" Ysabeau asked calmly, making it sound like there were no other rooms suitable for someone to reside in.

"I presume Louisa's old room is still being kept." Baldwin looked at her, and she gave him an insulted look at the behalf of her housekeeper, because he dared to insinuate Marthe wasn't looking after the chateau correctly and let rooms fall into disarray. He had a reason why he suggested that particular room, and they all knew it. His own was just down the hallway from it, so he would hear right away if Matthew were to enter it, or Diana left it, sometimes during the night. He's not leaving anything to chance, "We are leaving at dawn, so I suggest you get some rest, Miss Bishop."

* * *

 

Matthew sat on the bed in his room, his head bowed down in defeat. He could go against Baldwin's orders, take Diana from Sept Tours, from France, and from what the sunset would bring. They could run, but they would never be able to stop. And that is not the kind of life he wanted for the woman he loved, life of a fugitive from law that was only enforced when it suited the Congregation members.

If he wasn't who he was, if Diana never found the manuscript, then no one would pay any attention to them as long as they didn't attract human attention to themselves.

Their relationship was an excuse, he was sure of it.

He stood up, ready to go down to his sister's room and take Diana away despite it all, but sat back down again. He repeated that move so many times, and every time remembered what happened the last time he and Baldwin were on opposites sides and a woman found herself in a middle. He couldn't bare it if his actions resulted in her death like it did with Eleanor.

But he feared it might anyway.

Light, as if someone flipped a switch, a feat impossible in a place without electricity, illuminated the room and Matthew lifted his eyes. It was almost blinding him, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. In his centuries he had never seen anything like it, and knew for a certain he never would again.

A whisper in his mind told him he wasn't alone, three voices wrapped in one, soft, strong, and rough with age, all asked him the same thing, "Will you give up your whole life for your whole heart?"

The question sounded familiar, he was certain Philippe once said something similar, but there was no time to ponder about the past now, but focus solemnly on the future. If they even had any. He nodded, before finding his voice to speak, "For Diana I will do anything, but she needs to have a choice too." he had learned within days of knowing her that she didn't like when someone had decisions for her, she was fiercely independent and determinant never to allow anyone to change her.

"She chose you, above all." the three whispered as one, "Salvation will come. But first blood needs to be spilled." Matthew was almost sent flying on his back with the force of the vision bestowed upon him. The light was dimming, and the voices seemed more and more distant, "I have been waiting for so long..."

* * *

 

Diana was shivering slightly in the cold autumn wind, as the sun was raising over the mountain tops that surrounded Sept Tours. The thick sweater and coat did little to fight off the icy feeling she felt spread through her as the unavoidable was approaching. She dreamed of salvation during the night, when she finally managed to fall into restless sleep in a strange room that smelled of roses.

She felt, rather than heard, Matthew's approach and turned to face him. She feared for him, for what would become of him once she departs. Asking him not to do anything foolish once she is gone would bring nothing, she was certain of it. He would not forget, and he would not forgive. He would retaliate, and then he would self-destruct. And the very thought of that, of him in so much pain because of her that he might chose death over life without her, broke her heart.

What right did she have to hold so much power over a being as old as Matthew Clairmont?

With a sob she failed to hold down she stepped into his embrace, wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could, and wished for a different world.

Matthew pulled her even closer, and kissed the top of her head. He had spend the night questioning his sanity, doubting his eyes as well as his mind. The vision, or was it all a dream, seemed nothing more than fleeing hope vanishing with the first rays of daylight. And at the same time his heart told him it was true, it happened, there was a way.

"Matthew..." he could hear Diana whisper his name, beg him without words not to let her go.

His mind made he begged her, "Trust me."

She didn't think, didn't hesitate, before answering, "Always." and then silently added, "I choose you, above all."

Matthew's eyes snapped open as the words replayed in his mind over and over, spoken with different voices, but all relayed the same thing. From this moment on they will be one.

Baldwin stood at the top of the stone stairs that led to the garden where the helicopter was scheduled to land within minutes. His eyes were focused on the couple in a tight embrace, and for a moment he felt jealous of his brother. While he appreciated his freedom to bed whomever he pleased there were moments when loneliness hit, and had no one to turn to. In those moments he imagined if Eva was still by his side, or Audrey, or Magdalena. Someone. Anyone.

And then he remembered that none of them was truly immortal, his father was proof of that. He would rather remain alone forever than have his existence depending on another, risk shattering into pieces like Ysabeau had. Like Matthew will once Diana succumbed to old age. He will not have another person becoming his weakness.

"You are making a mistake." Ysabeau appeared, like he knew she would, to try and change his mind.

But Baldwin wasn't going against his word. He said he would bring Diana to Venice and that is what he would do. He was a man of honor, "I am doing my duty, doing what Philippe would have wanted."

The mention of her dead mate had Ysabeau step back as if she was slapped. Baldwin always claimed he knew his father the best, but she knew better. While they were alike in my things Philippe never would have acted without knowing all the facts. He would wait and collect information, bid his time, and only then would he make his move.

She was about to point that out when a sweet smell reached her, scent unlike any she had sensed before. Foreign but familiar. And then the second followed, and she was brought back to that day, fifteen hundred years ago, when she found the boy she already liked like a son slipping away from this world.

Matthew's blood was flowing, and so was Diana's.

As one Ysabeau and Baldwin turned towards the couple that still stood together, and noted the slight change in their posture. Now they gripped each other with only one hand, the others were between them, their wounds touching and blood mixing, as it dripped from matching wounds on their wrists onto the grass and the fertile soil below.

"What kind of nonsense-" Baldwin's tirade about their foolish attempt to avoid the questioning, and possible judgment, by the Congregation was cut off when thin black sprouts started to appear from the ground. More and more grew between their feet and all around them, in number and in size, until they formed a knee high ring around the pair.

Baldwin moved down to pull them apart, to put a stop to it, but he was just steps away when a bright golden circle stopped him in his tracks. Sparks flied when he tried to punch his way through, but the obviously magical barrier held. He delivered another powerful blow just as Matthew kissed the top of Diana's head. Frustrated he was about to shout at them, order Diana to remove the shield, when the black branches shoot towards the sky, higher and higher, while growing even denser.

And then in a single moment it was all over and the shimmering gold wall vanished.

And so had Matthew and Diana.

Where they once were now stood a tall tree, its trunk wide and tall, the countless branches decorated with lively green leaves, delicate white flowers and blood-red berries.

And Baldwin stood speechless, staring at the trunk that engulfed the lovers, for what seemed like forever until a strangled sob reminded him he wasn't alone. Turning back towards the large French doors that led inside he saw Ysabeau standing still as a statue, blood tears trailing down her cheeks. Marthe appeared by her side, unaware what had transpired, and was shocked at the sight of a tree where there shouldn't be one.

"What in the world? A rowan tree?" she knew much about herbs and their properties, but generally avoided the witch's tree. There were some matters she didn't tangle with.

"A gift from the goddess." Ysabeau murmured. She long long since stopped believing in deities, but Philippe remembered and respected the gods of his mortal life to the point he ensured the remains of an ancient temple to the huntress were not disturbed. She visited it often in the days after he disappeared, offering the goddess anything she wanted just to have him back. And she returned to it, but only once, after his death and left a gift in a form of hair locks, both his and hers, braided together in the same way the branches that stole her son and his mate tangled to form the tree.

Now she understood what the price was for getting Philippe back, if only briefly enough to have the opportunity to say goodbye and kiss him one last time. The goddess took her last child, her favorite and the one she feared for the most.

She took him away now that he had finally found what their kind searches for their whole life.

"Where are-" Marthe began to ask, noticing the absence of two people she knew were supposed to be out here, but stopped at the look of utter agony on her mistress' face.

"They are together, in a way no creature can pull them apart." Ysabeau turned her icy blue eyes towards Baldwin and coldly informed him, "Philippe would be so proud of you for the way you take care of the family."

He watched silently as his father's mate retreated inside, followed by her oldest companion, unable to find the words to respond at her insult for the first time in his existence. There was no love lost between them, never had been, but things got worse after he became the head of the family. Ysabeau never approved of the way he ran things, always compared him to his sire and finding him flawed.

In this moment he wondered if maybe she was right.

Philippe was captured because he was on a mission to protect other creatures, to save witches, and yesterday he made it clear he had no problem handing one over to the Congregation, to the hands of liars and hypocrites, even if it might end with her death with the same excuse he used every time he made a decision that was in any way questioned. For the family.

The family that came down to three Philippe's daughters who couldn't stand to be in the same room together for longer than a few hours, and a nephew he hasn't seen or heard from in decades. But even that was more than Ysabeau had now that the last of her children was gone.

The cold wind moved through the branches and Baldwin held his breath, he could swear he heard the voice of his half-brother whisper his mate's name. The voice that was droned out with the sound of the helicopter blades.

And it was that sound that returned him to the present, made him pull the sides of his coat closer, despite the fact he didn't feel the cold anymore, and move towards the aircraft that would get him to the small private airstrip where de Clermont private plane waited to take him and Diana Bishop to Venice.

* * *

 

Ysabeau just disconnected the call and placed the sleek red phone on the table next to a stack of newspaper she just couldn't get herself to read that morning, no matter how long the habit was, when the sound of a helicopter approaching got her to turn towards the window that looked to the garden. Her housekeeper was at the doorway momentarily, looking as perplexed as she felt.

"Twice in two days." Marthe commented, "That never happened before."

Her mistress shook her head, "No, it hadn't. And it makes me wonder what kind of trouble he brought with him this time."

"You don't think... they would want to tear it down." the second part of the sentence came out as a horrified whisper that set Ysabeau's blood aflame. If they tried, if any of them dared to lift even a single finger, she would would kill them all. None would be spared.

She was still under the influence of that anger when her mate's son entered the library, and glared at him the moment his shadow darkened the threshold. As usual, Baldwin ignored the sign of open hostility against himself, since it happened more often than not, and moved to take a seat opposite of her. It made her even more suspicious of him, he could see it in the way her eyes narrowed at him.

"The Congregation members are not happy." he just began speaking when she cut him off with a very unladylike, and unusual for her, snort. That didn't stop him from continuing, "Everyone was eager to hear what Miss Bishop had to say about the whereabouts of the Book of Life."

Ysabeau looked at him like he was talking gibberish, "I believe she made it clear that she returned it to the library. And that she tried to call it again and failed."

"Peter insists-"

"That man is a liar that only cares about the power he believes is hidden in the book! And you are not any better!"

Baldwin chose to ignore the insult again, and instead focused on the obvious, "We will have to wait for another opportunity, another witch, capable of calling the book."

"What makes you think another witch could do it? And even if one succeeds, do you honestly believe she would be willing to share it with all creatures and not just witches?" Marthe couldn't help but point out several flaws in his statement, "They are, after all, notorious for being selfish with knowledge while simultaneously jealous of what other creatures had."

"There is another, more pressing matter..." Ysabeau spoke before Baldwin managed to snap at Marthe for butting in where she doesn't belong, one of his favorites pastimes whenever he was among the walls of Sept Tours, "Men like Peter Knox do not retreat and wait patiently. They crave power and will do anything to gain it." and then she went for the jugular, "Did he made demands once you informed them of the tree? Did he asked for a sample, for the fruit, claiming he only wishes to examine it?"

Baldwin remained quiet, his mind reeling back to a loud argument that was a result of the wizard doing exactly that. He actually dared to berate him for not bringing some of the red berries with him right away. Surprisingly it was Agatha who was most vocal against Peter, actually calling him despicable and ignoring the veiled threat uttered against her for insulting him.

"That will not end well." Marthe muttered under her breath, before leaving the library to start preparing a meal for the visitors they were expecting to arrive soon.

"No, it won't." Ysabeau agreed with her, "The Rowan tree is Matthew and Diana's resting place, and I will not let anyone defile it. Do you understand what I am saying? If they try they will pay dearly for it. The pain of losing my son isn't much weaker than the pain of losing Philippe, and I have no illusions who is too blame for pushing them to commit this desperate act. If he, or any of his mindless followers, trespasses and lays a single hand on that tree, attempts to steal even a single berry I will leave a worse bloodbath in my wake than I did in Argentina."

Baldwin blanched at the threat, fully aware that she wasn't bluffing. He was also aware that by doing so she would cause an open war between vampires and witches, something that no side would get out of a winner, not really. The loss of life would be enormous. But instead of pointing all that out he nodded silently, knowing he couldn't dissuade her.

Mentally he started to make plans, deciding which threads needed to be pulled and which favors cashed in. If Peter does make a move and causes Ysabeau to retaliate he will make sure that they are prepared. And he'll start by contacting Hamish Osborne, the daemon Matthew relied on for legal matters, to check if his brother made plans in advance regarding the Lazarus knights.

He was still lost in thoughts when Ysabeau turned towards the open doorway and sighed. Her getting up was what made him lose a train of thoughts and return to the present, and just in time to hear the distinct sound of car doors closing. Briskly he followed his father's mate and was took by surprise when he exited the chateau and realized that apart of Marcus, whose arrival was to be expected, two more people arrived.

"What happened with not allowing witches to step on our ancestral land?" he asked coldly, and received a glare that was just as icy from Ysabeau.

"I decided to make an exception for Diana's aunts. Or are you of the opinion they shouldn't be allowed to visit their only niece's resting place?"

* * *

 

Sarah was extremely uncomfortable, has been from the moment she set foot in the private airplane that belonged to an infamous vampire clan. But all that was pushed down and ignored because it wasn't really important. Nothing was important anymore. Her last living relative, last link to her sister, was gone too.

It would have been so easy to blame the vampire she met for it all, claim none of this would have happened if he hadn't butt his way into her life and turned her docile niece into someone who was willingly breaking the oldest law that the creatures had to obey. But she couldn't. Because she knew he was looking out for Diana, protecting her from her own kind. How strange that she, who always considered vampires to be unnatural and something to avoid at any cost, had a change of heart. How wrong was it that those who supposed to look out after witch's interests are the ones she despised now.

Well, she despised one of them for a long time.

Sarah turned towards her wife when Em took her hand and squeezed lightly. It was a reminder that she wasn't the only one who was hurting right now. Emily raised Diana with her, watched her grow up into a brilliant woman who had a mind of her own and a big heart. She wasn't the aunt by blood, but by family.

Emily had a big heart too. She showed it when she placed a hand on the shoulder of a young looking vampire that picked them up of the airport and asked him if he was alright. Asked him who the vampire, that was lost together with Diana, was to him.

It was then that the boy, he might be older than her but Sarah doesn't think she would ever be able to see him as anything more than a child, revealed that he was Matthew Clairmont's son. It was a somber reminder that they weren't the only ones who lost a beloved family member.

She was guided by that thought when she faced the feared Melisande de Clermont, looked the notorious witch-killer in the eyes, and with grief filled voice said, "I am sorry for your loss."

"I am not the only one who lost a child." Ysabeau responded, "Diana wasn't a child of your body, but she was your blood and your last link to a past long gone. She was the same as Matthew in that way."

The women nodded at each other, agreed on peace and bonded over a shared pain. When they were leaving, after three days, it was Emily who approached Ysabeau with the words of comfort, "They are together. That is all they ever wanted."

Marcus went with them, drove them to the airfield before returning to Oxford, determinant, now more than ever, to continue his father's work and find the explanation to the mystery of their existence and ties between the creatures. The chateau was once more too big and too silent, housing only three beings, one of which Ysabeau wouldn't mind to see leave finally.

But Baldwin was still haunting the hallways, a walking remnant of the ancient times, and he didn't show any signs that he planed to depart back to New York soon. She briefly wondered if it was guilt that was keeping him here, and almost laughed at the prospect of Baldwin actually feeling regret. Not when he took such pleasure at destroying what other people loved.

Guided by that thought she ignored him, left him to his own device, and because of it missed the moments he spent in the garden, under the ever-blooming canopy of the Rowan tree. She didn't see him place a hand on the rough bark and bow his head in respect, hoping to feel any sign of life underneath his finger, anything akin to what the graying witch felt that made her smile through the tears that were rolling down her face.

Marthe knew. The old housekeeper saw his grief clear as day when she went to her herb garden and saw him standing still as a statue and watch the branches move in the wind. She wondered if he too heard the whispers, but chose not to ask.

* * *

 

The next visitors arrived several days later, carrying with them papers and warnings.

Baldwin wasn't pleased when, after days of waiting to hear back from the daemon, Hamish Osborne arrived with the paperwork regarding the Knights of Lazarus, and announced that Matthew named his son Marcus the next Grandmaster. Marthe was reaching for the pile of papers that would be stored in the round tower, as is custom, when he grabbed them and started to look through them, searching for a loophole.

Hamish made a sound of distress, seeing his work treated so carelessly, while Ysabeau looked ready to strangle Baldwin. It was the same thing all over again. The same reaction as sixty years ago when Philippe left Matthew in charge of the Knights. Back then he was ready to call in question her son's right to lead, but refrained himself. She had a feeling this time he would make a move against Marcus, because if there was one thing her mate's middle son couldn't stand was the fact someone outranked him and called the shots,making him nothing more than a pawn in a game of chess.

The daemon reacted before she could, placed a hand on the pile of papers before they were sent flying all over the marble floor, and informed the agitated vampire, "Matthew didn't do it to spite you, but to ensure you aren't put in a difficult position."

"What are you talking about?" Baldwin wasn't convinced. As always he saw a conspiracy against himself in every decision made by a family member, "Of course he-"

"He knew what was going to happen. He sent me an e-mail in the middle of the night, saying he needed to make sure everything was in order, because a change is coming. I am telling you... he knew."

"And he was right." Amira added. She arrived with Hamish to Sept Tours to pay respect to a friend, and a woman who she didn't know as well as she wished, but admired nevertheless for her strength of will, "The change is coming. I have shared the news of what happened with my yoga class. Last time he came was weeks ago, when he arrived with Diana, and none saw him afterward. The news left them angry... enraged really. And many of them are calling for retribution."

The news left Ysabeau genuinely shocked, and pleased. Not because there were others who saw what happened as injustice that someone needed to answer for, but because her son, who was always a black sheep in his own family, found other creatures that were were as open-minded as him and created bonds of friendship and respect with them.

Hamish was nodded vigorously, "You might not think so, but Matthew was highly respected, and even liked by those who had patience to get to know who he was below he grumpy exterior. And Diana... she is the last descendant of a powerful bloodline. Her last name evoked the same respect among witches as de Clermont does among vampires. Creatures expect such things to matter, but the Congregation obviously doesn't care about them."

"In front of the Congregation everyone is equal." Baldwin pointed out, but even he knew that that particular part of the law was nothing more than a dead letter on the paper.

Hamish was a bit more blunt about it, "Except for the members. They are getting too bold, and instead of keeping the rest of the creatures in line use their positions of power for personal use. And don't even try and deny it." he added the final part when Baldwin opened his mouth to correct him. He didn't care that the vampire was older than him, and a sire of a powerful clan, on top of being a Congregation member himself. He was a daemon, but he will not be considered a third class creature and cower in front of others.

"The Congregation's job is to oversee things, as agreed upon by all creatures. But they have only as much power as we grant them." Amira pointed out calmly, only partially following the conversation. Her focus was mostly on the tree she could see through the open doors that led to the garden. She could swear that the wind that moved the sheer curtains brought with him soft voices of bound lovers.

"You are insinuating that the creatures might start collectively disobeying the Congregation. Turn against them." Baldwin couldn't believe what he was hearing. And at the same time it made sense. Any law is followed until the times comes when it needs to be adjusted to the current situation. If that adjustment doesn't happen, because those on the position of power refuse to bulge, there is only one remaining possibility.

"Continue on this path and you will no longer have blind obedience, but a revolution." Hamish wasn't sparing him with his honestly, "There will of course be those who believe things work just fine like this, but the majority if frankly fed up with the segregation. And that is the main reason why Matthew wanted Marcus to lead the Knights of Lazarus."

Ysabeau snorting, she couldn't miss this opportunity to make a jab at Baldwin, "He knew you would use the order to protect the Congregation from the fall, just so you would keep your ass in the chair."

Once more he ignored the insult, and instead pointed out the detail that everyone seem to be missing, "It's impossible. Too many creatures would have to work together to undermine the Congregation and its powerful members. I don't know how large a yoga class can get, but I doubt that would be enough. Face it, it's impossible for the creatures to ignore their differences and work together towards a common goal, no matter how worthy it is, without turning on each other and become noticed by humans."

Suddenly Ysabeau started to laugh, realizing where the whole conversation was leading to. She remembered the vampire that was stalking and brutally killing witches in London at the end of the 19th century, before Matthew hunted him down, and instead of killing him straight out brought him in front of the witch gathering and let them decide the bastard's fate. It was the first and only time he obeyed an order to kill from someone other than his sire, and that earned him respect from the numerous covens throughout the city, as well as a certain vampire whose flock also lost members because of the murderer.

The vampire that was almost as notorious as she is, and several times lodged a request to recall the Covenant. But now, using Diana and Matthew as a convenient excuse, he was willing to switch from a diplomatic solution to aggressive negotiation, according to Hamish anyway. And she was perfectly fine by that.

What surprised her though was that Baldwin didn't have a sour look on his face, or seemed ready to march back to Venice and tattle the plans to the other Congregation members. Instead he leaned back on the sofa, and smiled almost maniacally.

* * *

 

She was watching, waiting, for the vampire to exit the building where he lived. It was crazy of her to approach one like that, never before did she willingly made contact with one of them, but right now she had to get things off her chest. Had to tell him what she thought regarding the events of last week.

Marcus smelled the witch the moment he went through the main gates and intentionally stayed put to see what would happen. He didn't have to wait long.

It was a redhead whose scent was all too familiar. She was the one who broke into their laboratory, the one who, according to his father, stalked Diana and relayed information to that bastard Peter Knox. He knew Matthew went after her when he recognized her scent from the single strand of hair she left as evidence, and knew that he left her alive after learning everything he wanted from her.

He turned on his heel when he heard her marching towards him briskly, and was pleased when she faltered. But the expression of arrogance never left her, she kept her head high as she stepped in front of him and informed him she knows he is related to the vampire that thought he could protect Diana Bishop from them.

Marcus was ready to strangle her right there on the busy street when she coldly said, "We all know about the tree. They got what they deserved."

Gillian turned to leave, after getting out what she meant to say, when another vampire appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and cut her off. She didn't recognized him, who they were didn't mattered to her anyway, but she didn't appreciate the way he was watching her.

"The new world is coming, little witch." he didn't removed his icy glare from her as he spoke, "The old world, all its laws, and those who refuse the change will soon be history. And then all creatures will live together, in harmony, as they once did."

Gillian bristled, "You are delusional. The Congregation will never allow that."

The unknown vampire laughed at her, "Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Andrew Hubbard, the patriarch of the largest coven on the world. My flock are lost children; vampires, witches, and daemons. And they are all equal in my eyes. Coexisting in peace, working together and complement each other, forming a perfect society. And they are fed up with the restrictions forced upon them."

"Father Hubbard." Marcus greeted the older vampire when his blue eyes landed on him. He was familiar with the sire of the London clan, but only from the stories, since he usually kept inside the lines of the city where his power lied.

"Marcus de Clermont." the white-haired vampire bowed his head in respect, "My family knows about the tree, as well. We know that it was the Congregation that forced your father and Diana Bishop's hand, and ultimately pushed them into death."

"That is not what happened!" Gillian exclaimed, not caring that they were attracting the attention from passing humans. Two vampires and a witch, in a heated debate, couldn't pass unnoticed in the middle of Oxford.

But her vocal defense of the Congregation was ignored, as Andrew Hubbard revealed he knew Marcus was the new Grandmaster of the shadowed order many considered long disbanded, "If you make a move against the Congregation you will have the full support of my clan; do with them as you please."

"That's a coup." Gillian was white as a sheet now, shocked by what she was hearing. She needed to get away from the vampires, she needed to get to Sylvia and repeat everything just told to her coven leader, have her contact their representatives at the Congregation and warn them.

Andrew turned towards her slowly, looking at her like a teacher would look upon his ignorant pupil, "It is the most normal thing in any society. Just look back at all of our history, and you will find signs of it in almost every century. It's an indisputable fact. The change rarely comes from bureaucrats, for they are only interested in their own positions. It comes from an angry mob, demanding their heads."

* * *

 

Ysabeau sighed as she heard a car coming down the long driveway towards the chateau. The last five years have been difficult for her, no matter how often her grandson visited. Marcus ignored his own pain, threw himself in work, in Matthew's research, and rarely left the laboratory except to come and see her. Last time there was twinkle in his eyes, and she wondered when he would introduce her to whomever returned it there.

But more often than her grandson she received visitors from all over the world. Creatures who never met her son and his mate would come to pay respect to them, to a couple who caused the long yearned for change and brought them freedom to love. She heard countless stories, tales of forbidden love and heartbreak, horror stories of ancestors who were punished for breaking the cursed law.

She welcomed them all to her home, not caring what anyone would think of it. If all those daemons, vampires and witches alike wished to visit the place where the change began than she would grant them access. But all were warned not to take the fruit from the tree, and all accepted it without complaint.

One visit stood out. A young vampire who came alone, who broke down under the Rowan tree before admitting he too loved a witch a long time ago. They were planing on running away together, but someone found out about it, about them. It were his own brothers who killed her, at their sire's order, and left her for him to find on the place they were supposed to meet at midnight. He still ran away, carrying with him a single lock of her hair and a promise of justice.

When she learned he was one of Domenico's children Ysabeau wished the Venetian vampire was there so she could rip his heart out. But alas he was safely tucked away in his villa, surrounded by his remaining brood, and grieving for the loss of his status among the creatures. The Covenant might be recalled now, and his dalliances with daemon women no longer illegal, but now none wanted him anymore.

Upon exiting she was surprised to see a somewhat familiar face. She knew who Agatha Wilson was because the daemon was one of those who voted against the Covenant, one of those who welcomed the change, and who, according to Baldwin, was the first person ever to pop open a champagne in the cloister on Isola della Stella. He regretfully added, while telling the tale, that the cork didn't hit anyone.

The dark-skinned woman wasn't the only visitor though. The young man who drove the car was obviously her son, the similarities were unmistakable, both in appearance and the scent. A young daemon woman was on the back seat, and smiled shyly when she noticed Ysabeau's curious look.

While she was retrieving something from the car, the forth heartbeat suggested there was another person in the vehicle, Agatha walked closer. The two women never met before, but that didn't stop them from greeting each other like old friends.

But before their conversation could move forward, before Ysabeau could offer them to go inside, her sharp eyes landed on the little girl dozing in her mother's arms and a gasp escaped her lips.

"The child... she is a wonder. A witch born to daemons." Ysabeau focused on the girl's mother, who would later introduce herself as Sophie, "Do not let her out of your sight. There are still those who believe in segregation of creatures. If one of them gets their hands on her... I should inform Marcus. The Knights would be of assistance, I'm sure."

"The worst is behind us." Agatha revealed a news that hasn't yet spread through the creatures, which was quiet a surprise, "Peter Knox was found dead two days ago."

Ysabeau smiled slightly at her words and ushered them inside, all the while asking for more information. But his end wasn't as brutal as she hoped, he just dropped dead after using dark magic to summon a spirit and trap it so it could be questioned. Somehow something went wrong, and the spell backfired at him, killing him instantly. The witches who were investigating found he had been using a personal grimmoire belonging to Rebecca Bishop, and it caused another wave of investigation, but this time about his involvement in the killings of the Diana Bishop's parents. Demands were made that all those who knew and ignored his crime were identified and punished accordingly.

Little Margaret started to wiggle in her mother's arms, and ask to be let down, the moment they were in the garden. Something that surprised her parents, because the four-year-old preferred to be carried and would often claim her legs were hurting just to get what she wanted.

Ysabeau observed her with longing. Children were precious, and she often regretted the fact she couldn't have any of her own. She was a mother, she created her children when she changed the twins Louisa and Louis, and when she saved Matthew from pain and certain death. But she never experienced the wonder of feeling the baby move inside her belly, never cried the tears of joy upon holding her newborn for the first time.

Like she was feeling her gaze Margaret looked away from the tall tree and focused instead on the vampire that was smiling softly at her, and gifted her a wide smile.

Ysabeau closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, "Her scent reminds me of Diana's. Of the witches of old who were creators of life. They are long since lost, and with them great knowledge and power."

Sophie nodded solemnly, before lowering her daughter down, since it was getting increasingly difficult to hold her with all the wiggling, "My mother often says the same thing. She is a witch, like my father. All of my ancestors were witches, but the goddess had different plans for me."

Margaret, who was now free to wander around the garden, didn't waste her time on watching the butterflies flying around or on a solitary rabbit that braved to make a warren on vampire land and was left alone, as long as he stayed out of Marthe's herb garden. Instead she ran to the tree, as fast as her short legs could carry her, and knocked on it.

Her movement hasn't gone unnoticed, and Nathaniel moved to pick up his daughter, when the light started to shine from the cracks in the bark.

The branches started to move wildly, like someone was shaking the whole tree, causing the white petals to fall and cover the grass like freshly fallen snow. The light was growing stronger, as the cracks in the trunk expanded, so that everyone had to shield their eyes lest they become blind from it. That was why they didn't see the tree separating into individual branches that slowly retreated into the ground where they initially came from, leaving behind what they were protecting the whole time.

Margaret shrieked when she opened her eyes, and her cry of joy caused everyone to look as well. Ysabeau's instinctively covered her mouth with her hand to prevent a shout from escaping at the sight of the couple standing in embrace. They looked the same, frozen in time and space, like five years ago happened just this morning.

The little girl giggled and, avoiding her father's hands as he tried to stop her, ran to the couple and hugged their feet. Her innocent, "Found you." was accompanied with a sob from her mother. Sophie knew Margaret had strange dreams, but the little girl would say the nice lady riding a deer wanted to keep it a secret when asked about what she saw while sleeping.

In response to the little witch's words the couple finally moved, pulled away from each other, but just enough to look down on the grinning child who looked very pleased with herself for completing the task the goddess asked of her. With a voice rough from not being used Matthew responded, "So you did. Well done."


End file.
